Sideways In Time
by OnlyTime
Summary: This is a story about love. A death defying love that will live on... forever... just as she had promised.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note… **

**Hello… Although I have been a regular reader of fanficton for the past few years, I have never had enough courage to write one myself. However, the Doctor Who bug, that of Rose and the Doctor to be more specific, has refused to leave me. So, I have put pen to paper, well finger to keyboard, and have dared to travel into the unchartered waters of fanfiction. **

**I hope you enjoy reading this story and I would really like to know your thoughts. **

**Sideways In Time**

Time…

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. Time stands still for nobody, not even for the Last Lord of Time. Yet time can mend many things. It can slowly heal a cut in the flesh, knitting together the skin; making it smooth once more. Bruises will fade with each passing day, their once prominent marks vanishing forever, leaving the appearance that they were never there in the first place. Arguments can be solved; long forgotten as the sun sets upon them, whilst friendships old and new can be formed as the sun rises. Time can even work its magic to numb the pain, ever so slowly drying the stream of tears that have been shed.

However, some hurts run too deep. There are some wounds that time, no matter how long the lapse, cannot heal. This was his pain. This was a pain that threatened to consume his entire being if he let it, for he had lost so very much. He had lost _her_. Sometimes the ache in his hearts overcame him, taking hold of him entirely. It was in these moments that it would have been easy for him to give in, as death must surly be easier. And yet he lives. He is able to get up, breathe in and out, and walk into another adventure. For that is who he is, who he has always been, and she would expect no less from him.

This is his way of life, but when the adventures end, in that time between saving countless worlds where once she had been, he now sits alone and thinks. He realises that this is what hurts him the most, this pain is even worse then losing her in the first place, for he now lives a life without her. It would be so very easy for him to give in to his devastation, as he could have done many times in the past, but he cannot. So he decides to honour her in the best way that he can; by living, for her.

It is in these silent moments that he allows himself to remember- for it is in his memories where she now resides, instead of in her rightful place by his side. His memories are bittersweet; simultaneously easing the anguish inside whilst intensifying his loss. Every smile, every hug, every laugh, every frown, every word, every tear…him, her, _them_…burned forever into his soul. No amount of time can lessen his devastation at their separation, for she has been removed from time itself; placed outside where he cannot reach, cannot venture, and cannot charge in on his noble steed to save the woman who has bewitched his body and soul.

He cannot help but bitterly laugh at irony's cruel influence…Time being the force which is slowly tearing its last remaining Lord apart. No…time cannot heal this rift; instead it taunts him as each and every passing second widens the dark void between them, cruelly increasing their separation.

The long hours slowly become lonely days, dragging into even lonelier months, forming a harrowing year. This year has taught him a cruel lesson, has taught him to live a life without her, for the year has brought many adventures, many friends, with just as many enemies. It is the same old life for the Last of the Time Lords. However, on this poignant anniversary something within him stirs, calling to him, leading him, a need to be nearer to her; to remember.

With his resolve set, he wonders where exactly to go, for no particular place in the universe could ever do his memory of her justice. The Powell Estate… he had visited there many times throughout the past year. He had stood on its rooftop in the hope of glimpsing her in a younger incarnation, however each time he had come away soon after he had arrived. It didn't feel right- she would never forgive him if she knew that he could see her but she could not see him. Where then… the Scottish Highlands in 1879, Barcelona, the Impossible Planet, the day the sun expanded in the year five-point-five-slash-apple-slash-twenty-six … so many places…so many times, all holding a special place in his hearts, all carrying their own significance for him. Yet no place alone felt…_right_. Although he was not willing to admit it, he already knew where he must go. He had known for a year and time had finally caught him up. Within his very soul he knew that it was time; time to go back. The Doctor knew that it was time to return to Badwolf Bay, to say a final goodbye to his Rose.

The cold window juddered lightly against her forehead as the small bus thundered along the deserted road. She was now two days into her journey and she would not rest until she reached her destination. Her family had insisted on coming with her, as they did the last time, when she told them of her intentions. She greatly appreciated their ever present love and support, for it was that which had spurred her on during the past year, however this was something that she just had to do on her own and like always, they had understood.

She raised her hand and wiped the condensation from the window, peering out through the misty glass. It was dark outside; the sun was tiring as it fought its battle against the ominous clouds in the sky; its light being hidden as their shadowy forms grew in strength. She sympathised with that lone sun in the darkening sky, as the light had vanished from her life a long time ago now... a year to be precise.

Today was a year… a whole year… three-hundred and sixty-five days… since she had last looked upon his face. That face, so determined and focused, often visited her dreams. It would call to her in the darkness, whispering her name and chasing away her nightmares. He would stand before her, laughter sparkling within his intense eyes; hand outstretched seeking out her own. She would always wake, opening her eyes, peering into the shadows desperately searching for his hand to hold. Then consciousness would return and the overwhelming truth would come flooding back, breaking her heart all over again. He was not there anymore. He would never be there again.

In the beginning the pain was too much for her to bear. She would often return to that wall… banging her fist against its harsh surface, trying in vain to break down the barrier that kept her from him. She knew that her attempts were useless as he was not on the other side of the wall. Concrete was not the force that had divided them across space and time.

Another lonely night would bring another hopeful dream. His voice gently whispered her name, getting stronger, more urgent. She awoke, as she always did, waiting for her logic to tell her that this was her wishful imagination. However, his presence remained and refused to be ignored, calling to her, leading her, pleading with her to follow. And she had.

That was a long time ago now, since her heart had broken on that desolate beach, as he had burnt up a sun to say goodbye…such a very long time. And now, a year on, she knew that she had to return. She had to find something, what it was she didn't know, but she would not rest until she was there.

Rose wiped the tears from her eyes as she focused on the wilderness that lay before her. The valiant sun shone through the clouds; its light basking down upon the lone bus as it slowly made its way towards Darlig Ulv Stranden…

…Badwolf Bay.

**Thank you for reading**


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

**Part Two**

Hello. This story was written in the aftermath of 'Doomsday' and was soon after filed away as a spontaneous one-shot. However, with the imminent arrival of yet another finale, which is bound to be just as heart wrenching, the need to bridge the gap between then and now arose. I hope that you enjoy reading this short piece of madness and, as always, comments are more than welcome.

He stands on the shoreline, a solitary figure disturbing the desolate landscape. Any passer by who should happen upon this bleak wilderness may mistake him for a statue and justifiably so, for he is as weathered and worn as the rocks nearby. However, look closer, look harder. This deceptive stillness is home to a storm which rages.

The soft sand beneath his feet anchors him to the turning earth. He is barely hanging on. The Norwegian sky above him is the current battleground of two eternal armies. The dark and mighty clouds launch yet another assault for dominance, their inky blackness temporarily taking hold. For one brief moment the Bay and her visitor are engulfed by shadow, but the sun is defiant and Light prevails. The wounded Darkness is banished- for now. Times such as these are plagued by uncertainty and nothing lasts forever, even the sky. Things once thought impossible…

Darlig Ulv Stranden knows this weary traveller well. Following that very first anniversary- oh, so many years ago, he has come here in times of loss, loneliness, doubt, celebration, reflection- whenever he can bear to remember. When he needs her most he can feel her presence here. If he listens carefully he can hear. Her laugh flows with the tide and her name is whispered by the wind. If he listens carefully he can hear…

His need for absolution has led him here today. There is something in the air, something is coming. He can taste it, smell it, and feel it. Every fibre of his being is screaming aloud and yet all meaning eludes him, much like that impossible horizon in the distance. It is forever in sight but always out of reach. Yes, this man seeks answers but is unsure of the questions which need to be asked. A storm is approaching, this much he knows. Mighty forces are brewing in his past, present and future. There is nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, not that he ever has or ever will. That is not who he is. This man will stride out into battle time and again, an oncoming storm in his own right. He is hope. He is fire. He is life. He is death. He is the beginning and end of all things. He is tired. The weight of Time is bound to his soul and immense burden is tethered to his shoulders, it all stops with him. He, alone now, carries the curse of the Timelords and he is so tired, so very tired.

His time to sleep will come but not yet, not yet. The Universe still needs its valiant warrior, its lonely angel. However, perhaps it is time that the Universe should give back… perhaps. Doors once closed…

The incessant calls of his companions draw him away from this fragile moment of peace and as he departs, for a second, a ghost of a smile flickers into life across his resolute features. As the ancient vessel fades from time and space a soft breeze ripples across the waves and over the dunes. Bad Wolf Bay is smiling too. She is returning and he is waiting.

Thank you for reading.


End file.
